


War of Hearts and Honour

by Gryff_inTheGame



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Dark, Angst and Feels, Character Death, Complicated Relationships, Consensual Infidelity, Dark, Dark Magic, Death Eater Draco Malfoy, Death Eaters, Emotional Infidelity, F/M, Heartache, Heartbreak, Heavy Angst, Infidelity, Kissing in the Rain, Lies, Love Triangles, Ministry of Magic, Rain, Resurrection, Thunderstorms, Unspeakable Draco Malfoy, Unspeakable Hermione Granger, Unspeakables, War
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-10
Updated: 2017-05-10
Packaged: 2018-10-30 06:43:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,026
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10871262
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gryff_inTheGame/pseuds/Gryff_inTheGame
Summary: Themes: Dark, angst, romance, infidelity. Triggers listed as I come to it. Tags and rating updated as I go.“As ‘Unspeakables,’ their professional association meant swearing to a lifetime of secrecy. As work colleagues, their acquaintance became a little more complicated when boundaries crossed, and a trail of lies and deceit weaved a delicate a web of infidelity. What complicated this more was they were the most sort after witches and wizards by Voldemort's loyal followers. His Death Eaters desperately sought the key to their Dark Lord's resurrection and went to any lengths to get it. Knowledge was power. Turning your back on impetuous passion was not an option. Keeping yourself on ‘standby’ for mediocre feelings could only equal trouble when tempted by lust. Tainting your moral fibre...hiding secrets in the name true love could only end in heartbreak. All was not always well in the game of love and war.”JK Rowlings owns. The plot belongs to me.





	War of Hearts and Honour

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome! Here we go again, ready to embark on another journey. Bring on the ANGST!
> 
> No slut-shaming my characters.  
> No Ron-bashing.
> 
> I find thunderstorms incredibly romantic, hence, theming an entire fic around them.
> 
> Wait for it ;) I'm currently preparing to drink from my goblet filled with the blood of your bleeding hearts.
> 
> Beta-Love to Mr Benzendrine, who I'm pleased to say broke ;) in this chapter. Hurts so bad, but it's a hurt so good ;)
> 
> Be sure to let me know how your heart feels after Chapter one :) As I've said in the past, I find it motivating to interact with readers. 
> 
> \- GiTG
> 
> I follow back on Tumblr: gryff-in-the-game

 

* * *

 

 

_Hermione had learnt to not fear the dark. But waking up in a pool of her own blood scared her beyond any shadow of a doubt. Just because she was a Gryffindor didn't mean she was fearless; she’d simply converted her fear into something more useful. Her fear was the driving force behind her bravery. Call it ironic, but that was the truth. She didn't see fear as a weakness. There was no shame in feeling fear. She didn't even believe there was humiliation in showing fear. It was just that she believed, in times of fear, one must prevail the darkness. So, she made the wise choice to not let fear beat her. Only she, was the true master of her destiny, and she refused to let fear win._

_There was no right or wrong way to “feel.” Fear was the driving force of her determination. Fear was the feeling that reminded her her she was alive, and that, in itself, was enough for her to keep going. She could do many things… But she’d always had a choice. Sure, she could let being captured break her, she could die with her loyalty to the cause intact despite her dignity being disgraced. Or she could beat them at their own game. Either Way, Hermione’s options were all but a dream, because the reality unfolding before her didn’t offer her the path she'd like to choose._

_Her head was pounding as hot, red liquid gushed from it. The agonising pulsing pain wasn't due to the eerie silence. The sky was dark and cloudy, and the Dark Mark hovered above her head in a blazing haze of greenish smoke in the thick black of the night sky. Beside her laid the lifeless body of her partner, Dean Thomas._

_She’d taken an oath and swore under no circumstances would she divulge any information. In most situations, she would be dead. She wished she was dead. But “the easy way out” didn’t exist with these monsters. So there she laid, withering in pain whilst being cursed by Bellatrix, feeling the brunt of her Cruciatus with full force._

_“I'm just getting started, mudblood! I have many plans for you!” cackled Bella._

_“I'm sure you do,” uttered Hermione. “But the fact of the matter is, I'll tell you nothing, regardless.”_

 

_Bella was enraged with fury._

 

_“You think you're going to get a lucky escape, girl? Pfft. If I can't break you, I'll let them break you down so I can break you. I won’t fuck you, but they will,” said Bella with her head nodding in the direction of a selected few Death Eaters._

_Hermione’s eyes fell on Draco. He was a marked Death Eater, but remained faithful to another cause. He, too, was an Unspeakable, playing the most dangerous game of all - double agent. He’d earned his redemption long ago and had proved to be most helpful to the Ministry. He knew how to efficiently balance walking the line between light and dark. The truth was he was the last person to want Voldemort to return and, if he could help prevent it, he'd gladly fake a bit of courage and play in the crossfire. She supposed what he was doing was kind of courageous. But, if she was honest - if Voldemort returned, things would be very bad for Draco. The Malfoys betrayed the Dark Lord in the past. They didn't doubt he'd ever forget that._

 

* * *

 

_Draco’s Aunt was foolish. Driven by her desire and loyalty to the Dark Lord, the father of her unborn child...she couldn't see past the goal of aiding Voldemort's resurrection._

_The problem with Draco working for both sides, and only being truly faithful to one, meant that he had to convince the other he was dedicated to their task too, which meant that he had to do things he didn't want to do. Killing the innocent. Killing colleagues on the side he wanted to prevail. He wasn't sacrificing himself; if it ever came to it, he'd kill every person here, but he was a realist, and that just wasn't possible. He refused to murder Hermione, though. The loss to his side, not to mention his honour, would be far too great. That, and he had a particular weakness for her, having spent many months working with her on things only “Unspeakables” could know about. He'd grown sort of fond of her._

_Eventually they'd gotten close, and work resulted in a night of frivolity followed by debauchery...he hadn't been the same since._

_It was complicated. She was dating Weasley, but he knew Ron didn't make her happy. Not the way he could. So they'd been working after hours, indulging in each other. Draco took risks with her and actually enjoyed it. He never knew how rewarding love could be._

 

_Love._

 

_It was true. Only a few months of really ‘knowing’ her and he was willing to put anything and everything on the line for her. He had to get her out of this. He couldn't bare to witness her torture any longer._

_“Aunty dearest, while I agree with your methods, you have to think of the bigger picture here.”_

_Draco stood confidently beside Bella, giving Hermione a quick, reassuring glance._

_“I hate to ruin your fun, but this is my work colleague. You get everything you need to know from me. She knows nothing, more or less, than I do right now. She can't be used as leverage, not yet. And I can't have you just killing off valuable Unspeakables for the Hell of it. I still require her assistance. She won't talk. I'll deal with her.”_

_Bellatrix huffed, but she was interrupted by the sound of a brewing storm._

_Draco pressed further. “What do you think will happen if her body showed up tortured to death? I’ll be questioned, blamed, and possibly stripped of my privileges. Where would that leave you? Powerless...with no knowledge and no other means of finding such information except capturing and torturing. Do you think Unspeakables are weak? They're all trained like her. Like him,” he pointed to Hermione and then gestured to Dean’s body. He felt remorse, but he didn't dare show it; he could mourn the loss later._

_“Fine. You clean up the mess! Just so you know, I was more than happy to break her!” spat Bella with superiority._

_“I should probably tell you that she is past her expected time of return, and Aurors will come for her soon. You need to leave,” interjected Draco abruptly._

_“Very well, nephew. Lay low for a few days to sort this out accordingly. I'll be hearing from you in one week.”_

_Draco nodded in acceptance, but the only thing on his mind was for them to “fuck-off” so he could help her._

_The night crashed and echoed with roaring thunder as the first few drops of rain fell from the sky. The Death Eaters’ departure was sudden as clouds of black smoke disappeared into the atmosphere._

_Draco ran to Hermione, releasing her binds._

_“There you go again. Catching me before I fall,” said Hermione weakly._

_Draco half cradles Hermione, supporting her body._

_“I'll always be there to catch you...nothing about tonight went to plan. It wasn't supposed to be this way, Herm-”_

_“Shush. I know. We have to bring his body back, Draco. I can't leave him here.”_

_“I know.”_

_“He has a baby on the way,” sobbed Hermione._

_“I know.”_

_“How can I tell her? I-I can't face Lavender. I can't do it,” stuttered Hermione._

_“I'll do it. It appears I'm going to have a lot to answer for, anyway,” he said regretfully._

_Draco carried Hermione over to Dean's body. Before he knew what was happening, she was reaching for his face, urging him to kiss her pain away._

_“Don't take me to St Mungo’s. Fix me. I'm not on the brink of death.”_

_“There's protocol, Hermione. You know this. None of that's void. I'm already in deep shit because of tonight.”_

_The rain fell harder, and they were soaked within seconds. Their clothes clung to them as the water rinsed Hermione’s wounds - almost as if she was being cleansed by the rain._

_“I know. It's just… Ron’s back. I can't deal with him right now, not when I want to be with you. Not after something like this. I need you.”_

_“You don't know how much I've wanted to hear you say that, Granger. But given tonight's events, we have to snap out of it, for now. Weasley goes on a mission soon. We can talk then.”_

_“You're dreaming if you think he's going on business when he finds out what happened to me.”_

_“He won't have a choice in the matter - Minister's orders,” barked Draco somewhat possessively._

_“When did you get like this?” questioned Hermione._

_“Like what?”_

_“So protective...it's so courageous.”_

_Draco was taken aback by her choice of words. She made no sense to him. He was clearly oblivious to the fact that he felt responsible for her. Protective? She'd clearly hit her head a bit too hard._

_“Well, to be honest, do you think a regular wizard could pull off what I'm trying to?”_

_Hermione chuckled._

_“Actually, I know plenty.”_

_“Shut the fuck up, you,” he admonished playfully._

_“Make me,” challenged Hermione._

_“Is that a challenge or an order?” responded Draco coyly._

_“I don't think you're accustomed to being ordered around by a muggleborn.”_

_“Do you ever stop talking?”_

_“Only when you make me.”_

_She was giving him “that” look. The look that made his heart ache and his walls melt. That innocent look of lust. He couldn't resist her._

_“Here's me ‘making you’ then,” interjected Draco as his lips brushed hers. Their kiss was brief before Draco returned to the task of getting the three of them out of there._

_“What are we going to do?”_

_“Can you be a little bit more specific?” he asked, perplexed._

_“About us.”_

_“I don't know. But I won't ever stop unless you tell me to.”_

_"I can't imagine ever being able to do that,” she stated with a serious tone._

_“I can't say I enjoy you going home to Weasley at night.”_

_“It's not like that. Not anymore.”_

_“I should hope not. Let's get Dean’s body home.”_

_“Malfoy,” she interjected._

_“What, Granger?”_

_“Thank you for being here tonight.”_

_“I was always going to be, Granger. It was part of the plan.”_

_“No. I mean, here - now.”_

_“I think you've been concussed. I need to get you to a Healer.”_

_“But I'd much rather go to Hogwarts.”_

_“Definitely concussed,” he mussed._

 

* * *

 

It's late, and Hermione lays awake unable to sleep. She can hear the sound of her mother's clock ticking on the mantle downstairs. It's faint tick-tock echoes off the hallway walls, blending with the usual creaking of the house. Each time the clock-hand ticks’ signals the mental struggle of her thoughts, _“I can't do this anymore - it was a mistake.”_ Each time the clock “tocks” she reminisces past moments, listing legitimate reasons to stay. Of all the memories flooding her mind, the thing she can't shake is the feeling in her heart.

 

Love.

 

Passionate, heavy, head-over-heels, truly, madly, deep- _love_.

The wind howls, rattling against the window pane. Hermione uses her wand to slide across the curtains, opening the window ajar. A cool breeze makes its presence known, ruffling the curtains and causing them to dance in the wind. The air smells divine like that fresh, damp, earthy scent of mildew and the wonderfully familiar aroma of the atmosphere before it rains. It's an unfortunate reminder of _him,_ and she's never felt more lonely. The rain is reminiscent of every thunderstorm Draco’s spent with her.

The clapping of thunder mimics the way her heart still skips a beat when he's in the room, and bright lightning bolts threaten to break her every time they are apart. Yet, here she is, in bed with her “boyfriend” Ron Weasley, in her home.

Since she was captured, he only ever leaves for work. If he had it his way, he simply wouldn't go. This has resulted in her having to spend more time with him and a lot less time with Draco since she was ordered to take “stress” leave. Little do they know her stress isn't due to her recent torture. It's due to the constant turmoil she feels, every second of every day with the two men in her life. In life, you always have choices to make, a direction you are led to as a result of such decisions. She wishes such choices were easy. But that's the thing about life; nothing is ever easy. If it was, everything would be perfect, and a perfect world does not exist.

 

* * *

 

Since Ron’s return from his recent mission, it's  only complicated her predicament. Hermione actually feels the pain of her guilt when she looks into his eyes. She's been torn between what's right and wrong. Her head and her heart are pulling at the seams of where her soul and her spirit meet. Her sense and sensibility is conflicted. Love truly has the ability to destroy a person, she sees it now. And so, the choice to do right by him is the noble solution.

Hermione knows sometimes life calls for sacrifice. Even the strongest of warriors have a weakness. Hers is knowing right from wrong and making decisions based on the fact that she knows staying with Ron is the right thing to do. In reality, a relationship with Draco is a fantasy. It won't be acceptable, it'll hurt to many people, not to mention it would endanger Draco’s life being her with her.

She inhales deeply, slowly exhaling to calm her increasing heart rate. She needs to relax her mind... _needs_ to sleep. But her heart won't ease, and her stomach is swirling in conflict as the cavity in her chest aches where her heart resides.

An arm wraps around her, pulling her into him.

“What's wrong, Hermione?” asks Ron with concern while he spoons her.

“Nothing, I just can't sleep,” she replies abruptly.

“There's a storm coming,” he whispers in her ear as he leans forward to kiss her cheek.

“I might go get some fresh air.”

“Are you okay? You can talk to me about it, y’know. I wasn't there, but I know what it's like. Tell me?”

“I don't want to talk about it, Ron. I need some air,” replies Hermione hastily as she throws his arm off her.

She sits on the edge of the bed, sighing.

“I'm sorry. It's just been a difficult time and you're being so - intense. You blatantly refusing Ministry orders on my part is not only adding to my stresses...it's making me resent you because I can't work right now. I'm independent, and I enjoy my space. That's why we have our own places.”

“I'm sorry. I'm just scared you're pushing me away. I want to be here for you,” mutters Ron as he hoists himself up on his knees, making his way to her side of the bed. Her back is facing him, so he buries his face into the crook of her neck.

Hermione stares out the window as the sky continues to change. The rain is going to start any minute.

She huffs in defeat.

“I'm not, I promise. I just can't deal with you being here all the damn time! I'm sorry,” she snaps before standing, putting on her slippers, and exiting her room.

The temperature in her hallway is chilly, so she folds her arms while venturing to her front door. Retrieving a shawl from the coat stand beside the entrance, she leaves the comforts of her sheltered home for the impending storm brewing outside.

Her heart beats wildly in her chest as more thunder claps overhead. Leaning on the structure supporting the pergola, she comes undone, a mess of nerves, and ache, and reason. She's exhausted from the lies.

The wind picks up, and she shudders from the feel of the crisp air against the skin still exposed, but she welcomes it. Anything to help her numb the pain of her breaking heart. She squeezes her eyes closed, trying to reduce the impact. Upon opening them, she makes out his outline in the distance. He always comes when it rains.

Thunderstorms have been somewhat symbolic in their affair. They've spent many moments together in total darkness, embraced in each other's arms while listening to the claps of thunder as they watched storm after storm roll in.

The first night they explored one another, they were stuck at the office, trapped because of a ruthless storm. Draco had charmed his office to mimic the weather.They fucked on Draco’s desk to the sound of the wind howling and the torrential floods. Another time was after returning from separate missions. Each task was equally dangerous and lengthy. Draco came to her on a night just like this one, and they spent it huddled on the floor naked in front of her fireplace, a bed of blankets piled on the floor and their limbs intertwined. Ron had been away.

One of their more memorable times was recent and the most haunting. The plan failed and resulted in her capture. He was there on the “other side” playing his part to diffuse the situation. He saved her life. The sky poured on them when he rescued her and told her he wouldn't ever stop “this” unless she told him to.

She'd promised it would never happen, yet, here it is - about to happen.

The honest truth is she is broken by him. Every thought, every touch. Yet, there he is in all his perfection, looking every bit of the arrogant, self-righteous prick he is for loving her, but it isn't enough. They can never be together. It still hurts. Not love, just loving _him._ Probably because she's never had a love like this. She's looked into the depths of Draco’s at eyes at three AM while surrounded by darkness and still sees his soul in the whites of his eyes, the reflected moonlight in them as he stares back at her. Her fingers have explored every inch of his body. Her lips have tasted every essence of him. Her body has trembled in response to the feel of him.

Hermione is hooked on the feeling of her first true love. But truth is, _this_ love is destroying everything that she stands for...everything that makes her who she is. There's too many reasons to stop loving him. If only it were as easy as flicking the switch off and being done with it. There's no regrets. She just wishes she didn't love the way he makes her feel when he's with her.

Shuddering, she crosses her arms, allowing her hands to travel up and down the length of her elbow underneath her shawl. It’s a sign of nerves and comfort. Hermione stands on her porch, staring into the dark depths of the night, breathing in the fresh air. She loves the smell before it rains.

The air of the night is cold. Draco comes as no surprise to her as his shadow is now fully visible, emerging from near the Apparition point outside her home.

Hermione takes a seat on the steps of her porch, eyes closed, head tilted back as she waits for the first raindrops to touch her face. Maybe they will mask her tears.

It's late - midnight, but he always comes when it rains...

Hermione’s head is still pointed up to the sky, and her body leans back on her elbows as they rest on the top stair of her porch. Inhaling the night air, her thoughts are at a stand still; she’s frozen - almost in time, but her feelings aren't numb to the facts. This storm is bringing her more than the rain. Her heart still skips a beat by the smell of him...mother nature is doing her best to tease and torment her as gusts of his scent waft towards her, carried in the wind.

When he's near, her body reacts by covering her flesh in goosebumps. It's true; even her skin craves his touch.

 

* * *

 

Draco stops a foot away from her, but the distance has never felt greater. He wants to be in her personal space. He wants her so damn much.

 

* * *

 

The air surrounding her is as heavy as her heart, and there's a lump of nerves in her throat making it hard for her to breathe in his presence. _So this is what it feels like...to be on the “other” side of you_ , she whispers to herself.

 

* * *

 

Of all the girls...it had to be _her_ that he fell in love with. Insufferable know-it-all with a personality to match her wild hair. So stubborn, she frustrates him almost to the brink of insanity, but it's tamed by her kind, devoted heart and warm, welcoming smile. It isn't just your _average_ smirk, per se - the way the corners of her mouth upturn. There's a twinkle in her eyes brighter than fireflies and looking into them threaten to burn you brighter than any sun. The apples of her cheeks are tinted rosy, and her lips are of the perfect shade of strawberry. It saddens him to see the sadness in her eyes, and it pains him knowing he's the reason why. He can tell she’s upset. He know’s what's coming.

Draco insists sitting on the step next to her. Anything to be close to her once more.

Their silence is deafening when the rain begins, and they sit there in it, absorbing the steady wet drops.

Draco can't stand it any longer.

“Don't.”

“Don't what?” asks Hermione with a shaky voice.

“Don't say it. I know what you're thinking, please don't say it.”

“I'm sorry, Draco, but I can't. I can't avoid it. And you can't ask that of me. It was bound to happen sooner or later. My conscience is awake now, and it's telling me I can't do this. I'm sick to my stomach every day with the lies...the deceit. It goes against everything that I am. I can't do this anymore. I can't do this to _him_.” She points to the door behind her, implying Ron.

“Do you honestly think turning your back on _us_ means your conscience is cleared? Because I can tell you now - it's not. We did what we did and nothing can change that.” _I can't lose you. “_ You deserve so much more. I can-”

“You can give me what? Don't pretend you're oblivious to how dangerous this is for us. If people found out...if a Death Eater found out. I couldn't live with myself if I was the reason something bad happened to you.”

“Nothing bad is going to happen to me.”

“You don't know that. I'm a distraction you don't need. You'll get killed.”

“I don't know whether to be offended you think we can't be together or that you think I'm not capable of doing my job. I thought Gryffindors were all about taking risks.”

“Not if it's risking you life, and you're not a Gryffindor, Draco.”

“No, I'm not but I've been fucking one for the past six months...surely that counts for something?”

Hermione scoffs.

“So what are you saying? Spell it out for me because I'll be honest, you're really confusing the fuck out of me, Hermione. Are you choosing him?”

“No - it's not like that.”

“Tell me how it is? Because you're saying we can't be together, but you're staying with him.”

“I haven't figured it all out yet. Just this part.”

“So that it then? We're done?”

“Why do you have to make this so hard? I'm trying to be honest. I'm scared for you. I feel bad for what I've done to him. He didn't ask for me to cheat on him. All he's done is love me.”

_All I've done is love you!_ he thinks. “He doesn't make you happy. He doesn't know how to love you right.”

“Sometimes he does. His support, as of late, has meant a lot to me.”

“You're conflicted," he states blankly.

“You don't say?”

“Are you asking me to stop? I need to hear you say it,” Draco insists.

“You said you would if I told you so,” Hermione delivers almost icely. For a moment, she feels her heart will shatter beyond repair.

“You said it’d never happen,” says Draco in disbelief.

“It's complicated. Look, he's upstairs. You can't be here. I told him I was coming down for some air.”

“If it's what you want.”

“It has to be this way. I'm sorry...we have to stop.”

“Don't be sorry.”

Draco stands, brushing down his robes with a quick sweep of his hands. Just like that, he's walking away from her.

“Draco, wait,” she calls to him.

He stops, not turning to face her. If he looks at her one more time in this moment of vulnerability, he fears he might break. He can't look into her eyes.

“You've made yourself clear,” he mutters. “Just don't pretend I meant nothing to you when you come back to work. I can't forgot.”

“Do you want to forget?” she asks with no hint of innocence.

Draco swivels around to face her in shock.

“Pardon?”

“I can make you forget, if it's easier,” she advocates.

“Is that a serious question? Are you suggesting what I think you're suggesting?”

“I won't remove anything except the memories of us.”

“No. I said I can't forget - not that I wanted to. You're pushing me away. You can deal with it the honest way. Don't preach to me about lies and deceit and then offer to remove my memories of you from my fucking head.”

“Are you -”

“Stay out of my fucking head, Granger!”

He yells, but only out of frustration. He doesn't know what he's done to make her want to do this. But she doesn't know that he is breaking too.

“Bye, Granger,” he muffles as he turns to face the wind.

“Goodbye, Draco.”

"This isn't goodbye...goodbyes are final. There's always going to be thunderstorms, Hermione. You'll think of me every time it rains.”

“I know that.” _You always come when it rains,_ she thinks to herself while she watches him walk out of her life, his figure disappearing in the distance.

Soaking wet and freezing, she makes way for the front door using magic to dry herself instantly. Wanting to take away some of the chill, she heads to the kitchen to brew a cup of tea. She's oblivious to the lights on.

 

* * *

 

Hermione gasps, taken by surprise that Ron is sitting at the kitchen table with two cold hot chocolates. His facial features are pained.

_He knows._

Ron doesn't wait for her to take a seat.

“How long?” he asks angrily.

All that can be heard in the kitchen is the echoing of her mother's clock and the continuing storm outside.

“How long, Hermione, answer me!”

“Six months,” she blurts out.

“Six months? You've been fucking _Malfoy_ for six-fucking-months!”

“Ron, I'm sorry. I can explain -”

“No, don't tell me. I don't want to know why you did it. I don't want the details. Just tell me you won't do it again.”

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me.”

“It is _over_.”

“At least now I know why you've been so distant. There I was thinking it was the torture, but it's been him all along.”

“I don't even understand how it happened myself, Ron. Can you forgive me?”

Ron looks at her with a mix of disgust and love. She didn't think it possible to feel both emotions at once, then again, if roles were reversed, she's sure she would be feeling a whole lot more. Or at least she'd be able to express herself better.

Ron stands, grabbing the mugs of chocolate and walking them over to the sink. He pours them down the drain dramatically whilst looking out the window into nothing but darkness.

“You're the only girl I've ever really loved. You're the only girl I know how to love, Hermione,” he says as his voice cracks with the pain of his woes. “It might take some time, but I can't let you go. I'd be a coward if I gave up on loving you because of past mistakes.” He pauses.“That's what he is, right? A mistake?”

Hermione's eyes want to look away, but she can't bring herself to do it. She feels another lie on the tip of her tongue, and it burns like poison.

“He was a mistake.”

“Then I can forgive you. But I'll never forget. Don't do me wrong, Hermione. Please, I won't be able to take it.”

There she goes again feeling the deceit roll off her tongue uncontrollably like word-vomit. Everything about her choice of words tonight is proving to be setting her up for failure in the sense that she can't stop saying such things to please him...she's says what she knows he wants to hear. There's a certain comfort in her lies. Probably because she doesn't trust the words she's spitting - not even her thoughts. The future is going to be rocky, but she's determined to get through this. Even if it means being as drastic as avoiding Draco unless they have to be in the same room together. It's not going to be easy, but she has to do it. Now she's seeking to redeem herself so she adds to her lies.

“You have my word.”

A clap of thunder explodes, startling her. Coincidence or not, she's waving her wand to silence the noise before retreating to the couch. She doesn't have to be anywhere until she's cleared by her Healer, so she sets up for the rest of the night with a book to comfort her broken heart and busy her mind. It's not long before she is finally drifting off into a restful sleep. She feels a blanket being draped over her, a gentle stroke to her face with shaky hands. But the moment is brief as it's interrupted by dreams of her past.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


End file.
